


Someone I Once Knew

by violentrose



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Torture, Memory Loss, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentrose/pseuds/violentrose
Summary: Since escaping HYDRA, Bucky Barnes has been recovering and trying to put his past behind him.He’s in therapy, he has his routines, and he’s been part of the Avengers team for nearly a year.But he still has nightmares, and he’s seeing her in them more and more. The only problem is, he has no idea who she is. Or if she was even real.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 24
Kudos: 69





	1. Dreams of You

**Author's Note:**

> so! im actually near the end of another story, BUT i started writing this and it just flew out of me lol and im actually pretty happy with it and really excited to write it
> 
> this can be read as an OFC story or a reader story
> 
> im not 100% sure what to tag so im gonna just add them as i go. ALSO the rating will probably go up at some point too so be warned. ALSO ALSO i hate the summary so that will probably change too :)
> 
> id really appreciate if yall could let me know what u think tho thank uuu

_ The wall was cold and hard against his back, just like the floor he was sitting on. He rested his arms atop his knees, metal hand clasping a flesh wrist. “You know… one day we’re getting out of here.” The voice was his, coming out of his mouth, but it sounded so strangled and disused that it took him a moment to recognise it as his own. _

_ He looked up at the woman in front of him, in the same position as him against the opposite wall. Her eyes trusting and her smile warm, chasing away the cold of the concrete and bars around them. “I believe you.” _

_ His eyes roamed her face like they had a thousand times before. Trying to memorise it before… “I won’t forget you. If I get out of here first, I’ll remember you and I’ll come back for you. Promise.” _

_ Still smiling, she repeated, “I believe you, James.” _

* * *

Bucky woke calmly, but drenched in sweat.

That happened sometimes. People seemed to think that the only time he had nightmares was when he woke up fighting and screaming.

Nightmares like these - ones with  _ her _ in them - often had him waking differently, smoothly, but the thudding in his chest and the layer of sweat on his skin was all the same.

Sighing, he stripped out of the soaking shirt and threw it in his wash basket. He really didn’t like sleeping in clothes but it stopped him from ruining the sheets at least.

The blackout curtains gave no hint to what time it was so he turned to the clock on his nightstand.

**4:58am** , the glowing numbers stared back.  _ Not too bad _ , he thought. He usually got up about an hour later and, considering some nights he couldn’t sleep at all, 5am was okay.

He didn’t have his daily run with Sam and Steve until 6:30am; plenty of time to calm himself down, and grab a coffee while writing down the latest nightmare in his journal like his therapist had suggested.

It was a good idea, he couldn’t deny it. It always used to frustrate him when he would be thinking about his dreams and nightmares, trying to figure out whether they were figments of imagination or actual memories, and he could barely even remember what had happened in them. Writing them down while they were still fresh gave him something to refer back to, while also providing an outlet for these terrible things.

He knew he always had Steve, and his therapist, and even the rest of the team, but he still wasn’t 100%. Some things he needed to come to terms with himself before opening up to others with them. Sometimes he just didn’t want to burden other people with awful images - though his therapist told him that it was unhealthy to view himself like that.

As much as he pushed against having a therapist in the beginning, he liked Dr. Salinger, and he was definitely making progress. He’d come a long way since he joined the team nearly a year ago. Alongside writing in the journal, his therapist had suggested early on that Bucky should write himself a schedule every day, too, to help stabilise himself.

That’s when he fixed the chalkboard above the desk in his bedroom. Every night before he went to bed he would write the next day’s schedule. He stared at it now, the security of it always helping to calm his nerves as he repeated today’s plans to himself.  _ 6:30, run with Steve _ .  _ 7:30, shower _ .  _ 8, breakfast _ .

By the time he got to ‘ _ 1pm, appointment with Dr. Salinger _ ’, his heartbeat and breathing were steady, so he got dressed and headed to his kitchen notebook in hand.

The coffee was piping hot when he got to it, thanks to FRIDAY and everything being linked to her. He poured it into his favourite mug - a huge one that could easily hold two regular mugs - before settling on his sofa to watch TV.

At the moment, he was making his way through Star Wars, as recommended by Peter - who described it as “so old, Mr Barnes, practically  _ ancient _ ”, making Bucky feel his full 100 years - and Steve. Steve hadn’t really enjoyed it as much as Peter, but he knew of Bucky’s love for all things science and technology.

Bucky was obsessed. He couldn’t even be put off when Sam laughed at him for looking like Luke Skywalker after he got his hair cut short. Although, he soon stopped when Bucky told him that he actually took it as a compliment.

Familiar soundtrack playing in the background, Bucky opened his journal.

_ Dark, cold room. Concrete & bars - cell? Wearing Winter Soldier uniform. _

_ The  _ _ Nice _ _ Woman was there again. Told her I wouldn’t forget her and would come back for her. Can’t really remember her face? _

_ Called me James. _

_ Not HYDRA… (probably) _

It frustrated him that he couldn’t give any more information than that. Some days he could write pages.

It also frustrates him that he never knows whether it’s real or not.

Although it’s much better than what it used to be, he still can’t completely trust his memory. The flashbacks, the things he sees when he sleeps, and even the things in his memory that he can recall as clear as day at any time. Sometimes they never even happened.

Some can be real memories, of course. But some are hallucinations he had during that time, perhaps brought on by the lack of food and water, or by the drugs they often gave him to keep him complacent without scrambling his brains. Others are what Dr. Salinger calls, “figments of the imagination”.

Dr. Salinger thinks that the woman in his dreams may have been a figment of his imagination. That his brain came up with her in the times that he was more lucid between HYDRA would put his brain in the blender. Apparently, it would make sense that he needed a coping mechanism.

He hopes she is a figment of imagination, because if she wasn’t… what the fuck happened to her?

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice came through the door, following a knock.

Bucky looked at the clock between the door and the TV. 6:28am. He must have zoned out. Grabbing the remote, he paused the TV without looking at the screen. He hadn’t watched a second of the movie and couldn’t spoil it for himself.

He opened the door for Steve, who was in his usual running gear of sweatpants and an Under Armour compression t-shirt.

“You’re early.” Bucky said, stepping aside to let him in.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Only by two minutes.” He glanced at the TV, and huffed out a laugh. “And _ you’ve _ been distracted by Star Wars again.”

Waving him off, Bucky went to get changed into his own running gear (basically the same as Steve, mainly because he stole the shirt off him a while back) before returning to the living room.

“We meeting Wilson out there?” He asked, tying his shoelaces by the door.

Steve shook his head. “I don’t think he’s coming today.” At Bucky’s questioning frown, he continued, “He went on a date last night and FRIDAY said he didn’t spend the night here. I tried to call him before I came to get you but he didn’t answer, so that says all I need to know.”

Bucky grinned. “Not like he can keep up with us anyway.”

Returning his grin, Steve replied, “I’m gonna tell him that.”

After their run, Bucky showered and had breakfast. He polished off his mountain of pancakes and was sitting at his dining table with his paperwork.

Their last mission was a simple and pretty easy one, as far as mission’s go, but he still had paperwork to do. A witness statement to give, documents to sign. It was boring and it often had Bucky wishing he could convince Steve to do it, like he used to with their homework sometimes growing up. Most times, though, Bucky was grateful that it gave him something to do, and liked how it gave him a routine.

1pm saw him standing outside Dr. Salinger’s office for his therapist appointment. He was ready to talk about his nightmare.

“Ah, Bucky! Nice to see you again!” Dr. Salinger greeted him as he opened his door and walked back to his seat, signalling for Bucky to follow him in.

Bucky took a seat opposite him, journal in hand. “You too, Dr. Salinger.”

Greg smiled, pleasantly. “Bucky, how long have I been telling you - it’s Greg. Or even Gregory, if you think that’s too informal.”

Bucky chuckled, a little bashful. “Sorry Dr.- er, Greg.”

He laughed, loudly and joyfully. “Dr. Greg is fine, too.” 

Bucky liked Greg. He was nice. Every session he would say the same thing, despite knowing that by the time the hour was up, Bucky would be back to calling him Dr. Salinger.

“So!” He clapped his hands once. “How have you been since I last saw you?”

Bucky has to go to therapy twice a week now. It used to be three times, but after his last monthly evaluation Greg announced that he was pleased enough to lower it to two after seven months of therapy. He does, however, have the freedom to ask for a last minute appointment if he ever feels he needs it.

“I’ve been good.” He glanced down at the journal in his hands. “I had another… nightmare, I guess? Last night. Or this morning. Whichever.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Greg reach for his own larger notebook. “Could you tell me about that?”

“Yeah,” The pen in Greg hand clicked and he began to write. Bucky cleared his throat, “That- The woman I’ve mentioned before? She was there.”

The doctor paused and lifted his eyes to Bucky before looking back down and continuing to write. “She’s appearing more frequently, is that right?”

Bucky shrugged, a slight crease appearing between his brows. “I think so. It used to be once every few months back in Bucharest, after I first escaped. Most of my nightmares were just about what I had done. By the time I got to Wakanda it was maybe once a month? Now it’s once every couple of weeks, maybe. Sometimes once a week.”

Greg nodded seriously. “And they’re all different?”

Bucky tried to rack his brain. “Mostly, I think. If I ever have one that feels familiar I try to find it in here,” He thumbed his journal’s pages absentmindedly. “But that doesn’t happen a lot.”

His doctor hummed, tapping his pen against his bottom lip lightly. He gestured to Bucky’s journal after a second of silence. “Would you mind reading the latest one for me?”

Bucky nodded. Greg always asked, which Bucky appreciated. Sometimes he didn’t want to share the contents, and he liked knowing that he had the freedom to choose who got to know

He read the short passage out to the man in front of him, the scratching of his pen and Bucky’s voice being the only noise in the room.

Greg hummed again as he wrote, sounding like he was deep in thought.

Bucky spoke up again, his voice quieter now. “Will they ever stop?”

Pen set aside, Greg exhaled. “I can’t say whether they will or won’t, Bucky. You’ll probably have nightmares for the rest of your life, though they will get less frequent as you’ve seen. But the ones with her in…” He paused. “I can’t honestly say right now. How do they make you feel?”

Bucky looked out of the huge window to their left. It was nice out; the May sun was shining, leaves were green. He’d always preferred Summer. “It depends, usually.”

Greg gestured with his hand, encouraging him to continue.

So he did. “Sometimes it’s just… sad. Almost nostalgic? They always seem bittersweet. Even the ones that are dreams, not nightmares. I’m pretty sure they were the only good moments I had while I was there. But at the same time, it’s like in every dream or nightmare, I know they would never last.”

Bucky takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to talk about this much longer but he needs one answer, so he pushes through.

“I know that… it was kind of a good thing, back then. It helped me get through it all. But you said she was just something I made up, so why doesn’t my brain know that?”

Notebook forgotten, Greg folded his hands together atop the desk. “PTSD is an awful thing, Bucky, you know that better than most people. It’s unpredictable, it’s messy, and recovery is never linear. And everyone's brain copes differently when it comes to trauma, of which you’ve been through a lot.” He said in his no-nonsense way.

Bucky swallowed and nodded, already accepting 

“However,” Greg paused, seeming to hesitate over his words. Bucky looked at him curiously, not used to seeing him so unsure of himself. “I think it could be beneficial to explore the possibility that this isn’t just a coping mechanism that you came up with as a trauma response.”

Not fully understanding, Bucky replied, “What do you mean?”

“As much as I  _ do _ believe that this woman is still likely to be something - or someone - your brain invented to help you,” He said, hands up in a placating manner. “I think our next avenue to explore would be the possibility that she was someone you knew.”

“You mean… she could be real?”

Greg frowned, but not unkindly. “Bucky, I never said that she was definitely fictional, just that that was the most probable thing. I still find it likely, considering she probably would have been found by now.”

“Yeah, unless they killed her.” Bucky said with vitriol, his own anger surprising him.

“I think it could help. For closure, if nothing else. If we come up empty handed, then maybe it’ll help your subconscious realise that it was your imagination and the dreams will stop.”

That  _ did _ sound good. “And if it turns out she was real?” He asked, unclenching his metal hand.

Greg smiled. “Well, that’s a bridge to cross when we get to it. One step at a time, remember.”

He nodded tightly, forcing his muscles to relax. He’s definitely going to have to do some yoga and meditation after this. He always did after talking about her.

They talked a little more, nothing too heavy, for the next half an hour.

The session finished with them agreeing for Dr. Salinger to get into contact with Tony about finding out whether anyone matching her description existed in the place that they kept Bucky. He promised not to go into detail with Tony about who she was. It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t trust Tony, but this was always one thing he kept to himself - and Dr. Salinger, obviously. Not even Steve knew.

It was a little confusing, the idea that she could be real, but it was nice to talk it out. Dr. Salinger was right, he hadn’t said that she was definitely his imagination. But Bucky figured that was easier to cling to than the idea that she was real.

That idea terrified him.

And if she  _ was _ real - and wasn’t HYDRA - that meant that his dreams and nightmares were real. That meant that he had broken his promises. He had forgotten her. He had never gone back for her.


	2. Square One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's therapist has asked Tony to identify any women who were at the HYDRA facility Bucky was held at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't as long as i wanted to be tbhhh but i hope ur happy there was smthn at least :)
> 
> also WOW im bad at summaries

Looking at the clock above the bar, Bucky sighed. It had only been an hour since he arrived at Tony’s party but it felt like four.

“Having fun?” Steve asked from behind him, amusement clear in his voice.

Bucky gave his friend a dirty look as he sat on the barstool next to the brunette. “Tons.”

Steve’s smile softened into something more like fondness. “I know you don’t like these things, Buck, but at least Thor brought the good stuff.” He said, lifting up his glass slightly and shaking it.

Chuckling, Bucky couldn’t help but agree. “It does make it more bearable.” He took a sip from his own glass. “Hey, at least I’m not having to go around and socialise with all of the randoms like you. Nobody wants to talk to the Winter Soldier.”

“Bucky.” Steve chides halfheartedly, like he always has at Bucky’s self-deprecating jokes. “I don’t know, I prefer these to the fundraisers. At least here I don’t have to schmooze with all the donors to try and squeeze more money out of them or keep them happy.”

Frowning, Bucky glanced around the crowded room and said, “Tell ‘em to fuck off then.”

His best friend laughed loudly, his head flung back and cheeks rosy from the alcohol. “Trust me, I’ve had to a few times.”

Bucky smirked. Steve could be polite, he could be Captain America whenever he needed, but he was still Steve Rogers, fiery little spitfire from Brooklyn. He didn’t like bullies, and he certainly wasn’t a pushover. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Nat’s been trying to set me up with someone all evening, though,” He sighed, rubbing his forehead as his smile fell slightly. “Every time I speak to someone around my age I can feel her eyes burning into the back of my head.”

Bucky snorted into his glass. “I didn’t know there were any pensioners here.”

Steve looked at him, unimpressed. “You’re the same age as me, asshole.”

Ignoring him, Bucky asked, “You still not interested in anything then?”

Steve shrugged. “If I met the right person, sure.” He paused to take a sip of his drink. “I don’t know, I’m not really into the whole ‘blind date’ thing. Ever since the team found out I was into fellas, too, Nat’s been sending me pictures of every non-straight guy within a 10 mile radius. I think I’d rather find someone myself.”

Bucky chuckled, knowing that’s exactly something Nat would do. “That makes sense. Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll get bored before your stubborn ass.”

Steve hummed. He didn’t sound so sure, but Bucky was well aware that Steve was the most stubborn person he’d ever met.

His mind went back to when Steve told the team that he was bisexual. Truthfully Bucky had assumed that everyone already knew, with it being about seven or eight years since Steve came out of the ice. Then one day, when they were alone, Bucky offhandedly mentioned something he’d remembered - Steve’s crush on a guy in one of their classes at school, and how he’d walked into a table when the boy smiled at him once.

They’d laughed about it, just like they had when it happened, and Bucky hadn’t really thought much more about it. He’d never had a problem with it, but back then was a different story. These days it was far more accepted - more to the point, it was  _ legal _ . Hell, Steve could go out and get married to a guy tomorrow and it’d be perfectly fine. As long as Bucky was the Best Man, of course.

Then Tony had walked in and asked what they were laughing about and they’d explained. Tony’s jaw had hit the floor. Then, of course, everyone else wanted to know how on earth they’d managed to render Tony speechless. And that was that.

Nobody had a problem with it, and some of them admitted they had suspected as much. Clint said he knew because of his secret relationship with Bucky, then got really confused when they told him they weren’t in a relationship.

“What are y’all doing over here sulking in the corner?”

The two of them turned to see Sam standing behind them, beer in hand.

“Avoiding people.” Bucky answered for them, metal index finger tapping against the rim of his glass.

Sam nodded, then turned to Steve. “Nat’s looking for you. She’s convinced that she’s found someone you’ll like.” He gestured with his thumb somewhere over his shoulder.

Steve groaned over Bucky’s laugh. “Please, Sam.”

Sam held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger, man. She does seem kinda nice, though. By the way that Nat was talking about her, I think she might snap her up for herself if you’re not quick.”

Grinning, Bucky elbowed him lightly, “Speaking of being snapped up, I haven’t seen you with anyone else since your date a few nights ago, Birdboy.”

Steve interrupted, not even paying attention to Bucky’s dig at Sam. “Good! I hope Nat goes for it! Look, Sam-”

“I told you, I’m just the messenger!-”

As they bickered, Bucky looked past Sam to get a good look at this mystery woman Nat was probably buttering up.

It wasn’t hard to spot them with Nat’s flame red hair sticking out of a crowd of dull greys and blacks.

The woman had her back to him so he couldn’t see her face, but she had a nice figure. Her posture and mannerisms made her seem relaxed yet confident, and she held herself well. Well enough that he wondered if she was another agent for one of the companies they work with. Maybe even SHIELD, though they don’t have much to do with them any more.

She turned her head slightly to the left, and Bucky frowned.

He wasn’t quite looking at her profile - more like a quarter of her face instead of half - but it was enough that she looked familiar. The slight rise in her cheeks as she politely smiled, the slope of her nose.

Someone walked in front of him, disrupting his view of her for a second, and then she was gone.

He looked around for a moment before he gave in and turned back to Sam. “So, uh, who is this woman anyway?”

Sam shrugged, pausing in his argument with Steve. “No idea. Probably one of Tony's rich friends, if her dress and jewellery are anything to go by. I haven’t really seen him all night so I haven’t had a chance to ask. You know what he’s like at these things, can’t pin him down.”

They all nodded and Bucky reached behind the bar to top up his glass with Thor’s booze, filling Steve’s up when he shook his empty glass at him.

  
  
  


“Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky woke the next morning to someone saying his name.

“Sergeant Barnes. Mr Stark has requested your presence in his lab.”

He rubbed his eyes, taking a second to take in his surroundings. 

“Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky sighed heavily. “What time is it FRIDAY?”

“It is 5:23am.”

“Fantastic.” He said under his breath. That probably meant that Tony hadn’t slept at all and didn’t even realise that he was waking Bucky up while the sun was still rising. “Tell Tony I’ll be there in 10 minutes please.”

“Of course.”

There was a slight pounding in his head that vaguely resembled a hangover, thanks to Thor’s mead. He’d only had a few glasses and was in bed by 12am, so it wasn’t as bad as it could be.

Still. It meant he wasn’t really in the mood to be woken up at 5:30am by a voice coming from the ceiling.

He got to Tony’s lab 5 minutes late, just to spite him.

“Barnes!”

Tony stood in the middle of his lab, with a tumbler of whisky in his hand. He still had most of his suit on, his bowtie undone but hanging around his neck. His jacket had been flung onto the sofa in the corner of the room.

“Please make this quick, Tony. I’m hoping to get another half an hour of sleep.”

Tony looked at his Rolex, a look of genuine surprise appearing on his face. “Wow, that time already? Pepper’s gonna kill me.” He mumbled. “Anyway, I had a little chat with your therapist this afternoon. Well, technically yesterday afternoon.”

Bucky nodded, his face blank.

“Interesting fellow. Very mysterious. He wasn’t very forthcoming with the details but he asked something about checking our records for a woman in the HYDRA facility you were in.” He took a sip of his whisky, keeping eye contact with Bucky over the rim. “Obviously I wasn’t gonna do it myself, that would take  _ forever _ , but FRIDAY found a few female members of HYDRA that were either stationed at the facility or frequented it. She also found others that were at facilities that you had been recorded as being at, which, as you may remember, weren’t many.”

The hairs on Bucky’s neck stood up. “Just… staff? No prisoners.” He asked, voice smaller than he realised it would be.

Tony looked at him, a slight glimmer of empathy in his eyes. “The only prisoner we have knowledge of ever existing is you.”

The silence settled awkwardly between them for a few seconds until Tony cleared his throat. “If you’d like to take a look, we have their files on the database. You can take a look at their photographs. See if you find who you’re looking for.”

Bucky paused slightly, before his own feet carried him over to the table 

“Now, I have to warn you. A lot of our records are largely just what records of HYDRA’s we’ve been able get our hands on. We’ve got quite a bit when it comes to who worked for them, but the further back you go in time, the less we have. They destroyed the majority of their paper records at the first sign of trouble.”

The holographic screen popped up out of the middle of the table, a number of severe looking faces looking back at Bucky, all in that same uniform. He recognised a few. None of them for good reasons, obviously. And none of them were her.

He opened his eyes, not even realising he’d closed them. Then he turned to Tony and shook his head, stepping away from the desk.

Tony nodded, closing the images back down. “I’m not going to push you for details and I never know what you’re thinking, so either ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help’ or ‘you’re welcome.’ Whichever applies.”

Bucky smiled. It was small but it was there. “Thanks for the help, Tony, I do appreciate it. You didn’t have to.”

Tony shrugged, ice clinking against the sides of his glass as he finished his drink. “Can’t take all the credit, can I FRIDAY?”

“You’re too kind, sir.”

Tony turned back to his desk and Bucky took that as a sign to return back to his room.

Just as he was about to leave, Tony called out. “And don’t worry, Barnes, your secret’s safe with me.”

And not for the first time, Bucky thought about how grateful he was for Tony Stark.


	3. Hacked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to make this longer but......... cliff hangers :)
> 
> also given up with chapter summaries loool

Back in the 30’s, Bucky didn’t really think of the future.

He was young, pretty care-free and, well, sometimes the future didn’t seem all that appealing.

Steve was always ill,  _ really _ ill. It scared Bucky to think that he could wake up one day and Steve wouldn’t be there. He didn’t like to think about a future without his best friend.

And then they were always so poor, even when he was a kid. He didn’t like to lie to himself and pretend that he’d suddenly become a millionaire when he couldn’t even afford a newspaper.

He definitely didn’t think about the future in the 40’s. A lot of soldiers did because that’s all they had; the thought of getting back home to their girls, being a hero, getting the white picket fence. Bucky always felt too focussed on staying alive. He was only 20 and he probably should’ve been thinking about a future, but he knew how many men had died in the first war and had already died in this one, and he knew that the likelihood of him coming back was slim.

After escaping HYDRA, the most he thought about the future was an escape route should they, or anyone else, come looking for him. Other than that, he lived minute by minute.

Then, a couple of months ago, he realised that he’d been thinking about the future a bit.

At first it was small. Just thinking about preparing meal plans a few days in advance, what to get Steve for his birthday a week later, contemplating cutting his hair (which he’d gone through with after a few weeks.)

He never thought his future would look like  _ this _ .

His conversation with Dr. Salinger after his meeting with Tony had been a short one. He hadn’t been able to get back to sleep once he’d returned to his apartment so he’d just pottered about, waited for Steve and Sam so they could go on their run, and then gone back to his apartment after that and done nothing more than get lost in his head for a few hours before he gave his therapist a call. For the first time in a while, he was glad he didn’t have to go near him or his office. It was more than enough to hear the disappointment and concern in his voice over the phone without seeing it in his eyes.

For now, he wouldn’t think about what it meant when Tony couldn’t find her in that facility. For now, he wouldn’t think about the future.

“FRIDAY, is anyone in the common room?”

Bucky stood in silence, looking at the ceiling and waited for a reply that never came.

He frowned. “FRIDAY?”

He stands there not sure what to do. Talking to the ceiling now just makes him feel silly. It’s not as weird when someone - or something - actually replies.

After a moment of confusion, he decides to go down to the common room anyway to find out for himself. It had taken him some time, but he’d gotten to a point where he didn’t always want to be on his own. Sometimes he can sit in a room with the team and not say a word for hours but their company helps get him out of his head.

Plus, maybe Tony will be there and he can ask what’s going on with FRIDAY. Probably doing some upgrades or repairs.

When he got down there, the only person there was Clint on the sofa with a huge bowl of popcorn, engrossed in something on the TV. He didn’t even seem to notice Bucky walking in and sitting in one of the adjacent armchairs.

“Hey.”

Clint waves at him and Bucky’s grateful he doesn’t attempt to speak with his mouth full.

“How’s things?” Bucky tries again, not really interested in trying to get into whatever trash TV Clint’s watching.

Clint shrugged halfheartedly, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Good.” He thinks for a second. “Wait, actually, Tony said something about a security breach.”

Bucky’s head snapped back to Clint. “ _ What _ ?”

The other man nodded, still shovelling popcorn into his mouth. “Uh-huh. Someone hacked into the system apparently. S’why FRIDAY isn’t working.”

It sounded pretty serious, but Bucky never knew with Clint. “Well… is it gonna be okay?”

Clint stopped chewing and looked at him for the first time since he walked in the room. “Yeah. Probably. Don’t worry about it, man, Tony knows what he’s doing.”

Bucky nodded, reassured somewhat. That was true, nobody knew Tony’s tech like Tony did. He looked around; the common room was usually crawling with people at this time, people getting their lunch or just hanging out with each other. “Is that where everyone else is, too?”

Clint nodded. “Some of them, I think. Cap is, so is Nat. Maybe Bruce. Sounded kinda boring, though, from what I could hear from the vent. All technical science-y stuff.” He said, plainly.

Bucky huffed a laugh, calming slightly.

He’s pretty content to resign himself to a few hours filled with Clint throwing popcorn at the TV and booing when a character he doesn’t like comes on screen. Better than nothing.

That’s not how it goes, though.

Suddenly, the room goes red and sirens start blaring. Shutters clatter down heavily on the huge windows, blocking out the city view.

This is the procedure for when someone has infiltrated the building.

Clint and Bucky look at each other, eyes wide, Clint’s cheeks full of popcorn making him look like a hamster. In any other situation, Bucky would have laughed.

He shoots to his feet, Clint scrambling not far behind, then turns to the archer. “Go find Tony and the others.”

Clint nods, and Bucky takes off running to his room.

He manages to get through his door without kicking it down, rushing to the hidden compartment in the wall that holds some of his knives and guns. He starts picking up knives and stowing them wherever he can. He already had some on him - he always carries at least two - but no one needs to know that. Next, two handguns, concealing one in his waistband and keeping the other in his hand as he leaves his apartment again.

The alarms are still blaring and the whole place is still lit up red as he makes his way down the corridor and into the lab where he guesses the others will be. His gun is held up in front of his face in case anyone jumps out on him. The fact that somebody hacked FRIDAY’s system this morning, then this? Sure, anyone can hit the alarm, but everyone is briefed that it’s a last resort. In fact, Bucky’s never actually seen it in practice, only in drills - it’s definitely not pressed in just any old situation. 

So, he’s not taking any chances.

His phone pings in his pocket and he pulls it out with one hand, gun still held up in the other.

It’s Clint.  _ heading to tony’s office. meet there _ , says the text.

That settles Bucky’s nerves at least a little, as he puts his phone back in his pocket. He figures Clint probably wouldn’t be texting if they were being attacked. Still, his gun remains in front of him, finger on the trigger, right up until he gets out of the elevator where he puts it away. It looks to him like he got there at the same time as most of the others, too, because Sam and Clint were just walking into the office.

When he got inside he noticed that the team were standing off to the side with Steve and Tony in deep discussion with each other.

The second thing he noticed was a group of about fifteen guards standing there in a circle in the middle of Tony’s office with their guns drawn and pointed at, Bucky guessed, whoever had caused the whole place to go into meltdown. They were dressed in all black - right from their bulletproof helmets, down to their combat boots - and heavily armed.

With a lingering glance at the guards, he walked over to the group while putting his gun away.

Nat nodded in greeting, leaving Steve and Tony to join Bucky, Sam, and Clint.

“They were like that when we got here a minute ago.” She said, answering his unspoken question. “We were heading downstairs thinking the problem would be somebody walking in through the lobby. Turns out, the problem had already gotten up to Tony’s office and triggered the alarm.”

Sam frowned. “Triggered it? I thought the alarm had to be raised manually? I didn’t realise it could be tripped.”

“It can’t.” Bruce said, only looking up from his tablet when he was met with silence. He walked over to them from Tony’s desk. “Can’t be tripped, I mean. They contacted security and raised it themselves.”

Bucky blinks at him. Sam frowns. Clint asks, “Wait… they reported themselves?”

Nat nods and Bruce scratches his head, “Yeah.” He answers, sounding as confused as they look.

Bucky looks back over his shoulder at the guards. They still were in the exact same position as they were when he walked in, and were blocking his view of whoever it was that had sent this whole place into a meltdown.

He looked back at the team, Steve and Tony now approaching them. “Well, who is it?”

“Million dollar question, Buck.” Steve sighed. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Steve, then Tony, began approaching the unmoved group, with Bucky and the rest of the team following closely behind. The guards parted like the Red Sea, allowing them through until the whole team was now standing inside the circle with whoever had caused this whole circus.

It was a woman. She was on her knees, hands in the hair, head tilted down to the floor enough that all Bucky couldn’t even see her face.

“Okay,” Tony spoke up, shattering the silence. “I want to know who you are, and how the hell you got into my system because I’m pissed, and kind of impressed.”

The woman raised her head. She looked straight past Tony, and met Bucky’s eyes over the shoulder of Tony’s Iron Man suit.

Bucky froze.

“Hello, James.”


	4. Rae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me WAY longer than i thought it would lol
> 
> hope u like it!

The girl from his dreams. It was her. Had her face, her eyes. Even her smile, though this one seemed a little less genuine when directed at the Avengers than the private one she’d given him in his dream. In his  _ memory _ .

Admittedly, she looked a little different. Her hair was longer, and if when he looked closer he saw her eyes were slightly bloodshot and tired. In his dreams, her hair was usually tied back, and the dark circles under her eyes were far more prominent. Belatedly, he realises he’s relieved that she seems to be doing better now.

He didn’t even realise that he’d tuned out from what everyone was saying until two guards stepped forward to handcuff her, forcing them to break eye contact while they put the glowing reinforced restraints on her wrists in front of her. After that, they shackled her ankles.

Bucky could hear the team around him in a heated discussion, but he still couldn’t look away from her. Couldn’t even pretend to concentrate on what they were saying.

When the guards stepped out of the way, she was watching the others closely.

“Yeah, that was me.” She said, suddenly. Everyone turned to look at her, and she didn’t falter under their gaze. Instead, she shrugged. “Wasn’t really hard. No offence.” She said in Tony’s direction.

“Uh, quite a bit taken.” The billionaire scoffed. “You’re telling me that you not only hacked into FRIDAY  _ and _ got past my security today unnoticed… but you also snuck into my party last night.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Bucky, then shrugged again. “Yeah.” Her tone was calm, like she didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Bucky knew that it was infuriating Tony, even if he didn’t show it, and he suspected the woman did, too.

Nat stepped forward sounding exasperated. “I’m telling you Tony, I was speaking to her for over an hour. I was going to set her up with Steve, for Christ’s sake, I think I’d remember her face.”

_ Set her up with Steve _ ? Bucky thinks. Then thinks back to the woman he saw standing with Nat, the one that Sam was telling them about when he joined them at the bar. The familiar lines of her body, and the glimpse of her face, the apple of her cheek when she’d smiled. Jesus Christ. She was right there and he didn’t even know.

Steve laughed once and humourlessly. “Well, thank God that didn’t work out, huh?”

“Charming.” The woman murmured sarcastically.

Bucky looked at her. She definitely seemed different from the soft spoken, smiling girl in his dreams. Then again, that’s what HYDRA does to you; chews you up, then spits you back out.

She was looking back at him now. Staring at him like she was trying to figure something out - or figure him out.

She’d called him James, so she definitely remembered him. She remembered more of him than he remembered of her, at least.

“What’s your name?”

She blinked at him, her face unreadable. “Depends who’s asking.”

Bucky noticed that members of the team were starting to pay attention to them now instead of the squabble they were having amongst themselves. He swallowed. “I am.”

He noticed how her jaw clenched slightly, as she took her time to answer. She tilted her head to the side, slowly looking him up and down, eyes lingering on his hair for a beat. He tried not to fidget under her gaze. “Rae.”

Bucky wished he could say it felt familiar, and the silence between them when he didn’t reply was stifling.

“Wait,” Tony said suddenly. “Didn’t she call you James? How did you know his name?”

The woman -  _ Rae _ \- moved only her eyes to look at Tony, the rest of her body still facing Bucky. “Lucky guess.” She smiled sarcastically.

Tony looked over at Bucky, who was frozen in place. His eyes narrowed. “Hmm-”

“Look, we need to get her contained. Something tells me that we can’t trust her even in those handcuffs.” Sam said, stepping forward to talk to Steve since Tony was stuck in his glare-off.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, then nodded. “I agree. Let’s get her down to the interrogation rooms, see what we can get out of her.”

They all looked at the stranger in front of them, who stared back blankly. It unnerved Bucky to not be able to read her, and he took a look at Nat out of the corner of his eye to confirm that she felt the same. To anyone else, they wouldn’t notice a difference, but Bucky could see the tightness in the red head’s shoulders and the sharpness in her eyes.

After deciding that Steve and some of the guards would escort her down, they headed towards the elevators. Bucky pretended not to notice the smirk she gave him as he stepped forward to go with them for extra back up.

The ride down was awkward. Steve and the guards were probably clueless to it, but the tension in the air was suffocating Bucky. He almost regretted volunteering to go with them, but he couldn’t bear to have her leave his sight, for something that he’s yet to confront himself over.

Steve’s hand was wrapped around her bicep as he firmly steered her to the nearest interrogation room, with Bucky following close behind. The blonde’s strides were long and fast, Rae struggling to keep up with her ankles shackled and the foot of height he had on her.

_ Why hadn’t he told them that he knew her?  _ That was the thought ricocheting around his mind.  _ They’ll understand, just tell them. _

Alternatively, she could easily beat him to the punch and tell the whole team that they knew each other, and it would probably send the place into chaos once again.

So why wasn't she?

Bucky looked at the back of her head, free to stare as Steve busied himself with unlocking the door using the handprint scanner beside it and the girl herself eyed the room inside through the window.

It was white, sterile, and free of any furniture besides a table and two chairs on either side of it. All three were bolted to the floor. On the left was a two way mirror, no doubt Tony and the others were already on the other side of it.

It reminded Bucky a little of the observation room he had to live in for the first few weeks after he arrived at the Tower. He’d had a bed, though.

She walked into the room ahead of Steve, looking around the place like it was a house viewing.

Steve followed her in. “Sit.” He ordered, his Captain voice in full force. He joined Bucky back outside once he watched her sit down, closing the door behind him with a heavy clatter.

“Anything you need to tell me, Buck?” Steve asked quietly and evenly, not looking at his friend as he used his handprint to lock the door.

Bucky didn’t reply. Instead he sighed wearily and folded his arms over his chest. Steve knew him almost better than he knew himself. He risked a look through the window on the door, but she was already watching the two of them carefully.

He looked back at the man in front of him who was waiting expectantly. “I think… I know her.”

Steve’s hands went to rest on his hips. He didn’t look surprised. “Okay. Okay. Wanna tell me how?”

Bucky shook his head, frustrated. “I don’t really know, Steve. I have… bits in my head. Glimpses.” He huffed a humourless laugh. ”Fuck, I didn’t even know her  _ name _ , Steve, but she knew mine.”

The two of them maintained eye contact before Steve finally nodded. He walked back towards the door that led to the room behind the two-way mirror, and opened the door. Bucky stood there dumbly as he poked his head in and murmured to those behind the door.

He shut the door soundly and walked back to Bucky.

“How’d you feel about going in there? See what you can get out of her? It’s a lot to ask, I know, so don’t feel you have to just because we’re asking.”

Bucky had a feeling that was going to happen. He wonders what Dr Salinger would say.

He thought about it, weighing up the pros and cons and trying to assess what impact this could have on him. He already knew he was going to say yes. He nodded slowly, and Steve clapped him on the shoulder.

“You need anything we’re here. You can leave any time you want. Understand?” Steve explained kindly yet firmly.  _ Your protective streak is showing _ , Bucky thought, amused.

As much as he didn’t know about her, like recognised like. That look in her eyes, the way she flitted them about his body as he’d approached the table. He knew she was scanning, studying, scrutinising. His body language, how he dressed, the look in his eye. He knew because he was exactly the same.

When he got in there, Rae was reclined in her seat, hands tied together resting on her lap, her body relaxed. As if she wasn’t in the most high security place on this planet. Bucky was almost the opposite by the time he settled in his seat; shoulders up near his ear, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

What’s the point in pretending when he knew she’d see straight through him?

"So… Bucky, huh?" Her smirk was almost cold, but her eyes glowed in amusement.

Bucky shrugged, his guard firmly up. "That’s my name." He was almost painfully aware of the team standing on the other side of the two way mirror.

"No, it’s not." She said, matter of fact.

Annoyed, Bucky rolled his eyes. "Okay, it's my  _ nickname _ . Middle name’s Buchanan."

She pulled a face. “Your name is James Buchanan. Like the president?”

“I guess.” He shrugged. She grinned.

They were both quiet for a second as she watched him assessingly. “I like your hair.”

Bucky ran a hand through it, self-consciously tousling the freshly cut strands. “Thanks.” He mumbled.

Then she smiled in response, and it was far too similar to the smile in his dreams for his liking.

He looked away and took a deep breath. “How do you know me?”

Her smile faded slightly. “Maybe you should ask yourself how you know me.”

“I have. A lot.” _And_ _I still don’t know_ , went unsaid.

Resting her head back, she looked up at the ceiling. “I guess you remember a lot less than I do then.” Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, then she spoke again quietly in a soft voice, “Good.”

He looked at her.  _ Really _ looked at her. The expanse of her throat, her relaxed posture, the way he could almost see her thinking.

But he had to ask, “Are you HYDRA?”

To his surprise, she laughed loudly, then brought her head back down to look at him. She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, her chin in her palms and her navy blue nails standing out against her pale cheeks. They matched the dress she was wearing at the ball, Bucky realised. “You always were so straight to the point.” She said, speaking gentler now that their faces were a few inches away from each other.

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “I said, are you HYDRA?”

She raised an eyebrow and whispered, “Are  _ you _ ?”

Steve met him outside the door when he left. “She gone quiet on us?”

Bucky nodded his head, running a hand through his hair. “Couldn’t get anything else out of her once I mentioned HYDRA.”

He smiled gratefully when Steve reached out to rub his arm, warmth creeping through the sleeve of his dark red henley.

“Are you okay?” His friend asked.

“I’m good. Better than I thought I’d be if I’m honest.” Bucky replied, thinking about things a lot less serious in the past that had triggered him a hell of a lot more.

Steve nodded, a bit lost in thought. “Well, I think now we’re just going to leave her to stew in there a bit. Tony asked FRIDAY to run some facial recognition and stuff, but nothing came up. It’s like she's a ghost.” He hesitated. “You asked her if she was HYDRA.”

“I…” He paused to gather his thoughts, wanting to make sure he phrased his next sentence properly. “I know she was involved with HYDRA in some way, but I don’t know what way that was. She was there with me sometimes. And I... I cared about her Steve, really. But I don’t know whether she worked for them or…” He threw his hands up and let them fall down to his sides.

With a slight crease between his eyebrows, Steve looked over his shoulder at the door that the rest of the team stood behind. “I think everyone else is going to want to hear this, too.”

It wasn’t a question but Bucky nodded in agreement anyway, and Steve didn’t enter the room until he had.

He shut the door behind him once they were inside, completely soundproofing it once again.

Steve gestured in front of him with a tight lipped smile as if to say ‘the floor is yours’, and Bucky started to speak.

He explained his dreams. How she was in many of them, with growing frequency, How he always felt calm around her, and she never did anything bad to him in them. How he couldn’t even trust that, not any more.

Keeping careful watch of the team's reactions as he spoke, and noting Tony’s hums of understanding when he explained why Dr Salinger had asked him for the HYDRA files, and the empathy in Bruce’s eyes when he talked about how he thought he’d imagined her.

Nat was the first to speak once he was finished. Her tone was careful, as were her words. “You know not everyone involved with those organisations are bad, Bucky. We both know that, first-hand.”

Sam interjected before Bucky could reply, “That’s true, but she is currently sitting in one of our interrogation rooms after hacking into one of the most unhackable servers in the world, a day after sneaking into a party under the noses of a bunch of Avengers. If she  _ is _ bad, then that’s dangerous.”

Bruce nodded. “She’s clever.  _ Really _ clever. We need to tread carefully before we jump to any conclusions.” He said, softly. “Besides, she’s clearly got a plan. The whole reason we caught her is because she reported herself to our security, so we need to be on high alert.”

There were a few murmurs of agreement around the room.

Tony clapped his hands together once. “Well, at least FRIDAY is back up and better than ever! And as much as I hate people touching my things, I hope to God she is on our side.”

As Tony continued to talk about how they could get her to speak (and Steve gave him his Disapproving Dad frown at the suggestion of torture) Bucky looked at the two-way mirror to his right, knowing he’d be able to study Rae without her seeing him.

The only thing was, she was looking straight at him. Bucky swallowed hard, and then, for reasons unknown even to him, he lifted a slightly shaky hand to wave at her.

And she waved right back, a pleasant smile firmly on her place. Like neighbours waving over a fence, instead of a prisoner and her captor waving through a mirror that she’s not even supposed to be able to see through.

“Did she just-” Clint shrieked.

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” Breathed Nat.

“Huh,” Tony said under his breath. “So, I’m guessing she does have powers after all? Fantastic.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (mostly) RAE’S POV!!!! i wasnt planning on doing this in anyones pov other than buckys tbh but here i am ! it has made it a bit back and forth tho which is kinda annoying so sorry if that annoys u :) also the “Who died and made this guy king of the fucking therapists?” is slightly stolen from shaun of the dead lol watch it if u havent already
> 
> also sorry its been a while, im trying to balance life and writing my true crime blog too :)
> 
> tw self harm

Plucking at the white linen that she was now dressed in, Rae wrinkled her nose. She understood the panic but,  _ God _ , they could’ve given her something a bit nicer to wear. Preferably something that didn’t make her look like a damn nurse.

One wave, that’s all it took for them to whisk her off to some sort of fucking chamber. Talk about trigger happy. Apparently, this was where they kept the Hulk when he used to have his tantrums. She didn’t think she was  _ that _ bad but clearly they did. How funny.

At the sound of footsteps, she raised her head to look at who had decided to pay her a visit now. They’d all come to stop and stare in the last few hours that she’d been in the transparent box; Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natalia Romanova,  _ Bucky _ .

What kind of name was Bucky anyway?

At least he cut his hair. Sure enough, she would miss the man bun, but something about that short hair… He just looked better. He had some colour in his cheeks, and a bit of a sparkle in his eye. He was getting better.

So, that was nice.

Now, a bald man sat in a chair right outside the locked door, one leg folded atop the other. He wore a pale blue button up shirt tucked into black trousers, complete with dress shoes. A pair of thin rimmed glasses were perched at the edge of his nose as he wrote something on the A4 notepad on his lap. Rae rolled her eyes.  _ Therapist _ .

“They sent me a therapist already? How considerate!” Rae remarked. She  _ had _ grown bored, though. Even if it was just a predictable conversation with a boring old therapist, anything even remotely stimulating would be welcomed.

If the man in front of her was surprised at her observation, he showed no signs of it as he looked up from his writing. “Rae, is it?” She rolled her eyes. Who fucking else could she be? He continued, “With all due respect, Rae, I’m not exactly here for you.”

She raised her eyebrows and slowly looked around at the empty space that surrounded her. “Well who else could you possibly be here for?” She said, mockingly.

Not taking the bait that her attitude presented, the therapist smiled politely. “I’m Dr. Greg Salinger, Mr. Barnes’ therapist. We’ve had quite a few conversations about you.”

She blew out a breath between pursed lips. “Oh yeah? Is it the nightmares? Does he tell you about them?” She watched his reaction and saw an involuntary twitch in his eyebrow. “Oh, he does! Good.”

He jotted something down without looking at the pad. She smirked. “Yes, he does.” He replied patiently. “But who do you tell about yours?”

Rae chewed the side of her lip, biting back a laugh. She liked this guy, he was fun. She tapped a finger to the side of her nose. “Can’t have nightmares if you don’t sleep, Doc. Hot tip.”

“Everyone needs to sleep.”

Leaning forward as if she was telling him a secret (even though she was at the far side of the pod and knew that every Avenger and his fucking dog would be listening in right now) she replied with a wink, “Not machines.”

He nodded, face neutral, and scribbled away at his pad again. “Is that what you are, Rae? A machine?”

His faux empathetic therapist voice started to grind on her nerves.  _ Is that what you see yourself as, Rae? Would you like to cry on my shoulder for $5000 a session, Rae?  _ Who died and made this guy king of the fucking therapists? “Don’t ask me, Greg, ask the ones who made me.” She smiled, all poison and spite.

The doctor nodded, finally looking down at what he was writing.

After 30 seconds of silence, he stopped writing and looked at her. She noticed his eyes flick down. “What happened to your arms? Could you tell me?” He asked, pointing towards them with his pen.

She didn’t flinch, nor did she take his bait to cover up the sliver of steadily healing wound that must have peeked out from hiding underneath the starched long sleeves of her top. “That’s confidential, I’m afraid. Strictly need to know basis.” She shrugged, a fake apologetic smile stretching across her lips.

“How can I help you, Rae?”

“You know what, Doc? You’re the first person to ask me that, how very kind of you.” She slowly stopped smiling. “Do you really wanna know the one thing you can do for me right now?”

He nodded again. “Of course.” He said, plainly.

“Send me Barton.”   
  
  


“I am  _ not _ going in there with that lunatic!”

Steve sighed, his broad shoulders filling the doorway of Tony’s office to stop the man in front of him from running off. “Clint, we’re not saying you have to go in there. You just have to stand outside the door like the rest of us have.”

Clint folded his arms over his chest, frowned permanently positioned between his brows. Bucky thought he was going to stamp his foot like a toddler. “I don’t want to!”

“Drama queen,” Tony mumbled from where he was sitting on his desk.

Nat got up from where she was lounging on the sofa and shot Tony a glare. Her boots clacked on the floor, cutting through the stubborn silence as she walked over to where Clint and Steve were facing off. “Clint, calm down.” She said, her hands up placatingly. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. We wouldn’t let it.”

Clint’s arms unfolded as he threw his head back and whined, “But why  _ me _ ? What does she want with me?”

“Well obviously we’re not gonna know unless you go out there and talk to her.” Bucky answered shortly. Sam elbowed him.

Whirling round to face Bucky, Clint’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t get sassy with me,  _ James _ . Not my fault she wants to see me and not you.”

Bucky scowled.

Nat huffed, her annoyance directed at both of them. Or probably everyone in the room by that point. “Clint, don’t be such a bitch, it’s not his fault and you know it. Just go in. Or I’ll ask Steve to drag you in.”

Clint grumbled and sulked the whole way through Tony’s brief on what to do and what not to do, and how to stay safe and notice warning signs. All this complaining about being scared for his safety and Bucky wasn’t even sure he listened.

From her position on the floor Rae watched Clint slowly make his way up the walkway that led the door before stopping half way up. She tried not to grin. He looked like a mouse approaching a cat, bless him.

“You can come closer, you know.” She called out, raising her voice enough that he could hear her from the other side of the room. Even the therapist had gotten closer than this.

The Avenger fidgeted, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He appeared to weigh up the pros and cons before nodding to himself and walking closer until he was standing right outside the door.

Rae studied him for a second, mostly because it was kinda funny how he squirmed.

“I can’t hurt you Clint. Not even if I wanted to.” She said, a little exasperated. “Besides, Tony made this thing, right? Clever guy. I’m sure he wouldn’t send you out here if it wasn’t safe.”

He didn’t reply, but his shoulders relaxed slightly.

Silence settled around them like a fine dust.

Rae lifted her hands.  _ Would you like to know why I wanted to see you? _ She signed.

Clint blinked at her. The pockets of his hoodie bulged and he clenched his fists slightly before slowly pulling his hands out. Rae didn’t doubt that if she looked close enough, she‘d be able to see the sheen of sweat on his palms.

_ I think I have a feeling now _ , he signed back.

She smiled slightly, amused, then rolled her sleeves up. Ignoring the stricken look on his face at her exposed arms, she signed,  _ I need your help _ .

_ Are they infected? _ He signed, gaze firmly on her forearms.

She shook her head.  _ No, I don’t need medical help. _

There was no reply, other than the confusion in his eyes that had returned.

Rae lifted her hands again.  _ On a scale of one to ten, how much do you trust me? _

A short laugh chirped out of the man in front of her. It was a cold disbelieving one, something that didn’t seem to suit a person like him.

_ Tell me why you seem to think I should. _

_ I don’t think you should. I would understand if you didn’t.  _ Slowly, she stood up and waited to see what Clint would do. He half looked like she’d just triggered his fight or flight instinct. Even though she was still in this godforsaken indestructible fish bowl.

Moving at an even slower pace, she started to walk until she reached the middle of the room. Now he could see her wounds even clearer, and she noticed his eyes flicker down.

Her hands lifted again, and she began to sign once again.  _ I was sent here to kill him, Clint. _

_ Who? _

_ James. _

Clint froze. His eyes darted to the red button to his right. The one that would send the whole pace into lockdown, and probably get her lined up against the nearest wall and shot.

“Don’t. Clint. Seriously.”

It was probably because her tone was the closest thing to worry since she’d gotten here, or that she actually spoke instead of signed it, but he listened. 

His eyes went back to hers, and they stood there in a stalemate for what felt like an eternity.

Now that she had his eyes back on her, she began to sign again.  _ HYDRA _ .  _ They sent me, and they know I'm here. Getting caught was part of the plan. But I need your help. _

Clint's face was outraged and his hands flew about quickly.  _ My help to kill him?! _

_ No.  _ Rae signed back, with an eye roll.  _ Your help to keep him alive. If you don't believe me, I don't blame you. But I need you to trust me, all of you. _

"So why are you-"

Rae's hands flew up towards him and she shook her head vigorously.  _ Don't speak _ . _ They have a bug and they're listening to every word. _

Clint looked at her disbelievingly _. A bug? You think they could get a bug into this room without anyone realising. _

She sighed, frustratedly _. Not in the room.  _ She pulled her sleeves up further to show the harsh, jagged wounds where she'd been hacking at herself before arriving at the compound. _ In me. _

_ You’ve been trying to find it,  _ he signed.

It wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway.

_ I know I could’ve asked for Natalia or James instead of you, but I figured you were probably the best chance I had at being listened to. They wouldn’t even consider believing me. _

_ You don’t know that he wouldn’t trust you.  _ Clint signed back, bypassing the mention of Nat.

Sighing, Rae paused.  _ I know him, Clint.  _ She hesitated. _ He just doesn’t know me. Not any more. _

As she watched him walk away, she knew this was one of her last chances. It was unlikely that Clint was going to go back there and sing her praises, and they probably won’t kill her if he tells them she’s lying, but on her end she would be capital F fucked.

Especially if one of them comes out here and blabs. HYDRA would be so pissed they’d break in and kill her themselves.

For a second she allows herself to wonder how it would’ve gone down if she had asked for James instead of Clint. Realistically, she knew she had more of a chance with Clint. She’d heard about that whole thing with Loki and the mind control - it wasn’t too dissimilar to the kind of thing that HYDRA liked to meddle with.

Still, it was a nice fantasy to imagine James remembering her. Trusting her again. It was selfish, and the odd occasion that she let herself entertain it was brief.

Truth is, she probably would’ve never entered his life again. Not unless he came to her. Memories were painful, especially those ones, and the less he remembered about that place, the better.

Then, she’d heard of the contract and the bounty on his head. So, she went back to them. Putting her freedom and life back on the line for someone who had no clue who she is.

Sad thing is, she’d do it again in a heartbeat.


	6. Ham & Cheese Sandwiches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote this quicker than expected lol
> 
> clearly given up on chapter summaries :)
> 
> also i accidentally uploaded this to the wrong story at first lmaooo smooth brain

_You have a new roommate, Soldat. Try not to kill this one.”_

_I wouldn’t have had to put him out of his misery if you hadn’t tortured him until he was as good as dead._

_That’s what he wants to say._

_Instead, he stays quiet. Keeps staring ahead at the crumbling concrete wall, knowing that he’ll go straight back in the chair if they realise today’s one of his brain’s clearer days._

_He hears the familiar thud of a body hitting the floor, but nothing else from the person now at his feet. Unconscious then._

_The guards leave the room - cell - with a slam of the door, and only then does he allow himself to move._

_Before him is a young woman. Probably about 20 years old, though it’s hard to tell with the bruises and blood covering her features. She’s frail, and dressed in scraps. He knows how that feels._

_Not fully aware of what he’s doing, he crouches next to her. Then, tentatively, he lifts her. A groan echoes off the walls and he pauses and looks at her. There’s a groove between her eyebrows, a pained frown that he’s all too familiar with on his own face. Thankfully, she doesn’t wake, so he starts walking to the corner of the room with her in his arms and lays her gently onto the mattress on the floor._

_Not sure what else to do, he stands there watching her. She’s alive at least. A quick once over tells him that she has no fresh wounds. Well, none that are too life-threatening anyway._

_So, for now, he sits and keeps watch while she rests._

“Buck? You okay?”

Bucky opens his eyes to see Steve standing in front of him, a concerned frown on his face.

He looks around, taking stock of where he is, before he nods at his best friend. Steve allows his hand to fall off Bucky’s shoulder.

Arms stretching above his head, Bucky yawns. “When did I fall asleep?”

Steve looks up from watching Rae on the screen. She’s still awake. “About an hour ago,” He shrugs. “I didn’t even realise you had until you started moving around. ’S why I woke you up.”

“Thanks.” _I’m okay,_ goes unsaid. Straightening himself up his seat, he tips his head towards the screen lazily. “Has she been up to much?”

Arms folded across his chest, Steve shakes his head. “Same as before. She’s just sitting there.” He looks at his watch, and it forces Bucky to look at the clock on the wall. Nearly 12am. An hour since Clint had come back from talking to her.

Bucky, of course, knew what she was saying. He‘d wondered at the time whether she knew they were all watching her on that screen.

 _He just doesn’t know me. Not any more._ That’s what she’d said.

A steaming cup of black coffee appears in front of his face, and he follows the arm up to its owner’s face. Nat’s face stares back at him, blank.

“I know you don’t like it strong but this’ll keep you awake, old man.”

He smiles gratefully in reply and takes the mug from her. “How’s Clint?”

She shrugs. “He’s fine. Not as grumpy that we sent him in. It was getting kinda heated in there with Tony, so I bailed for a minute. You know how I feel about testosterone.”

Bucky snorts, thankfully without a mouthful of coffee. “Yeah, I figured I didn’t have much else to offer. Tony knows what I think we should do, I wasn’t gonna debate it.” Taking a sip of the coffee, he feels more awake. He’s not sure if it’s the caffeine or the scorching heat across the roof of his mouth. “He still doesn’t believe her then?”

Shaking her head, Nat sighs. She takes a drink from her own mug. Smells like something herbal. “Nope. Can’t blame him, though.”

Bucky hums as he watches Rae on the screen.

“Do you trust her?” Nat asks, tone steady and serious. Nobody can say she doesn’t get straight to the point.

Bucky looks up to see both her and Steve watching him carefully. He looks between the both of them, thinking carefully before his mouth speaks without him wanting it to.

“You do know she’s only here because she allowed herself to be, right? People like her-” He hesitates. “People like _us_ , you don’t find them if they don’t want to be found. If what she’s saying is true, that HYDRA sent her to kill me, she probably could’ve killed me the first night she was here and no one would’ve had a clue. She’s here because she wants to be.”

Taking a deep breath, he counts down from ten like those calming techniques told him to.

Nat lets him stew for another second before she says, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“That’s because I don’t _know_ , Nat.” He responded pitifully.

She opens her mouth to reply, but Bucky is saved by the whirlwind that is Tony Stark bursting through the door.

He comes to stand in the middle of the room, and Clint, Sam, and Bruce walk in behind him, albeit much more quietly.

“So, we’ve had a discussion,” He pauses as Clint grumbles. Giving him a dirty look, Tony continues, “We had a _discussion_ … and I’m willing to x-ray her. Check for a bug. That doesn’t mean that I’m willing to believe everything that comes out of the smartasses mouth though!”

Clint grumbles again, but Tony ignores him this time and Bruce gives the archer a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Tony speaks again, his tone heavier this time. The stony look he gives Bucky hits him right in his chest. “We all know what HYDRA is capable of, some of us more than others. We know that this isn't out of the realm of possibility of things that they’d do. So I’m willing to test it under _my_ conditions in _my_ lab. If-” he interrupts himself to take a long breath. “ _If_ there is a bug, I’m willing to work with her. That doesn’t mean I trust her implicitly. And if she’s lying… well, then what, team?”

Forever the voice of reason, Steve stepped forward to answer when no one else seemed to be able to. “I think we need to take it one step at a time, Tony. Let’s get the scan done, then go from there.”

Tony didn’t respond for a second, but he seemed to find what he was looking for in Steve’s eyes because he just threw his hands in the air and shouted, “Fine! Load ‘er up!”

“So, who’s going in there to give her the good news?” Sam asked.

“Dibs not me!” Clint blurts out, even though everyone’s already looking at Bucky.

Bucky looks around at them all, before throwing back the rest of his now cold coffee and putting the mug aside. “I’ll do it then.” He says, as he stands.

Sam nods, “She trusts you the most.” He says simply, as though that’s obvious - and normal.

Rolling the sleeves of his henley up, he approaches the door. “I’ll see you all in Tony’s lab then, I guess.”

Clint gives him a salute.

“We’ve got your back, Barnes.” Natasha shouts out, just as he’s closing the door behind him.

Allowing himself one deep breath, he tries to school his features into something more neutral and approaches the door that leads to the room containing the Hulk container. But with his hand on the door handle, he hesitates. Just being near her, knowing she’s on the other side of the door, unsettles him. He wants to remember everything, and nothing. Wants to believe her, and wants her to be someone that they can get rid of and he can get over. The longer she’s here, the easier it’s becoming to see Rae and the girl in his dreams as the same person, no matter how different they seemed sometimes.

He comes up with a few things he could say to her, remembering that he can’t give away their plan in case there is a bug, before he opens the door.

“You were standing on the other side of that door for a while, James.” Rae calls out from where she’s sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room. Her eyes are closed, and it looks like he’s just interrupted her meditating.

Bucky comes to a stop in front of the transparent door, closer than any of the others have come. “Hm.” He hums in acknowledgement, not even trying to deny it. She opens her eyes. He glances at her arms. “How are you?”

She looks at her arms, too, knowing what his question really was. “I’m okay. Kinda hungry.”

Bucky nods. It’d been a few hours since they’d given her anything to eat, and if she’s anything like him - and Steve - she needed to eat a lot.

Clearing his throat, he lifted his flesh hand to the scanner next to the door. “How about you come with me and don’t run off, and I’ll get you a sandwich? Ham and cheese.” _Ham and cheese?_

She grinned and jumped up. “Deal!”

Bucky nodded and, feeling hesitant to take his eyes off her, did the eye scanner next. The door opened and she walked over to his side, grin still in place.

Feeling amused, he couldn’t stop the smirk that took over his lips. “Damn, if I’d known food made you easier to deal with I would’ve suggested it ages ago.”

Unbothered, she shrugged. “I’m a simple girl, Jamie.”

He snorted and decided to ignore the nickname. “I doubt it.”

Grin slipping off her face, she groaned loudly and dramatically when Bucky pulled the handcuffs and shackles out of his back pocket. “ _James_ -”

“Are you forgetting that you’re a prisoner here? It’s not really up for debate.”

She huffs, but holds her wrists out. Careful to avoid the wounds on her arms, he locks the cuffs around them. Truth be told, they’re far too loose especially for such a dangerous prisoner, but he’s not here to cause pain and those cuts look painful. As he’s putting the shackles around her ankles, he sees the same wounds there.

“Don’t worry. Uh, I heal pretty quickly, too. They won't scar either, they’re not deep enough.” She smiles, blandly.

They look at each other until he nods once, then turns his attention to the ceiling as he begins leading Rae back the way he came. “FRIDAY, can you tell Clint to bring a ham and cheese sandwich up to Tony’s lab, please?”

Rae dug an elbow in his ribs and he looked down at her as they stood waiting for the hallway door to unlock. “I thought you said you were going to get it!”

Bucky shrugged and opened the door. He waited for Rae to walk through, before closing it behind her. “Yeah but it’ll annoy Clint. It’s funny.”

“Not when he spits in it.” She grumbles.

They walk in silence, and Bucky hopes that she’s decided to stop for good. He’s not so lucky, because when is he ever.

They stand there waiting for the elevator in silence.

“So, the arm.” Rae’s looking around at the walls and other doors when she speaks again, though there’s not much to see in the purposefully empty corridors down here.

Repressing a sigh, Bucky’s staring at the numbers above the elevator and willing them to go faster. “What about it?”

“It’s new.” She replies, looking down at the black and gold limb between them. Bucky clenches his fist instinctively, the vibranium rippling.

Being careful not to spill too much information, Bucky nods. “It’s uh… It got blown off and a good person really did me a solid in replacing it. Doesn’t hurt as much as the last one at least.” He rotated his shoulder as if to prove it.

When he looks back at her she’s already watching the arm, appraisingly. They make eye contact and she stares him down until he looks away. “Hm. I’m happy for you.”

Bucky doesn’t know how to reply. So he doesn’t. They don’t speak again until they get to Tony’s lab.

The elevator pings as they reach the designated floor, and the doors open to reveal the team - except Clint - standing around the central table. Tony has taken his jacket off and he’s currently reaching up and tinkering with what Bucky assumes to be the x-ray machine hovering above the table. Eagerly awaiting their visitor, the rest of the team is facing the elevator.

Tony’s the first to speak as he steps around to the front of the table and pats it. “C’mon then, Spy Kid, hop up.”

She rolls her eyes but does as he says anyway, her cuffs jangling as she does so. “Kid? I’m older than everyone in this room.”

Tony makes a contemplative face but considering two of the people in the room are round a century old, it’s not too surprising.

“Everyone?” Bruce asks, sounding intrigued. His eyes briefly catch Bucky’s where he’s still standing near the elevator.

“Everyone.” Rae replies firmly, making sure to look at both Steve and Bucky.

“ _Anyway_ , onto things more important than who has the bigger pension. You’re just gonna have to lie back on the table and not move or speak, and this thing up here will do a scan of your body. Kind of like an MRI, except you won’t be moving or in a tube. So, kind of nothing like an MRI actually.”

Rae blinks at him and then lies back onto the table like he said. Considering how much she usually likes to be snarky, Bucky’s guessing her newfound muteness is for the benefit of the bug.

The scan begins with no more preamble and Bucky takes the opportunity to go and stand next to Steve. “Older than us, huh?” He murmurs, trying not to be heard above the low buzzing of the machine.

Steve huffs a laugh, still watching the scan take place. “Yeah.” He glances at Bucky before going back to watching Rae. “Think she has the serum?”

Bucky frowns, feeling his body tighten. “Maybe. It is HYDRA.”

“She doesn’t look any older than 25.” His friend replies, quietly and a little sadly. 

He looks at her face. She doesn’t look scared. In fact, she doesn’t look… anything. _She’s on her own_ , Bucky realises. _She’s escaped from them_. There’s no way anybody who was still with HYDRA, or even had recently escaped, would be able to go into a lab without having a meltdown. Bucky knows that from experience.

He wants to fill that gap of what happened between her escape, and now. And why the fuck was she dealing with HYDRA again.

Suddenly, there was a beep. The machine had found something. Then a second beep.

Tony pulled up a screen and tilted his head slightly. “FRIDAY, what am I looking at?”

“There seems to be two devices in Ms. Rae’s body, Sir. The aforementioned surveillance device is located in her lower back. I have temporarily disabled it using electrical waves sent through the scanner. However, for a more permanent solution it will need to be removed in due course. The second device is a microchip, of sorts.”

Bucky’s hand flies to the back of his neck, and he feels the bumpiness of a scar just there. Distantly, he remembers sitting in his apartment in Romania with a bloody knife and a beeping chip no bigger than a grain of rice in his other hand. As he slowly lets the arm drop to his side, he ignores the way he sees Steve looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“Should have guessed it was going to be in a harder to reach place.” Rae murmured to herself miserably, getting up off the table to lean against it.

Tony frowned at her. “What’s this microchip then?”

Looking more tired than she had the whole time she had been here, Rae sighed. “I didn’t actually realise they had tagged me, as much as I hate to admit it.”

Impatient, Tony gestures for her to continue. Bucky holds back a disapproving outburst at Tony. Rae fiddles with her fingers a bit before continuing. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she looked nervous.

“When I was first with HYDRA, they used tattoos instead. Like barcodes.” She turns around and uses her restrained hands to lift up her hair. Sure enough, there’s a barcode crudely tattooed onto the back of her neck. It has a mess of scars running through it. Like she’d taken a knife to it. Letting her hair drop, she turns back around. “I don’t know, I guess that was the best they could do at that time. They were doing it up until the mid 40s, like how the Nazis were tattooing numbers onto people in the camps. Around 1950 they came up with the tagging. Microchipping their captives like dogs. Must have done it to me, too, obviously.”

It’s the first time Bucky has seen her angry, and there’s so much suppressed fury in her voice that he feels it in his core.

Nat looks at him. He looks back.

“It basically gives them our information. If we had to go to a different base or were being handled by different people, they’d scan it and have our records there and then.” _Handled_. Bucky barely manages to stop a shudder. “Came in handy when they had to burn the physical records to stop anyone getting their hands on them.”

“Why are you telling us all of this?” Nat asks suddenly. Arms folded across her chest and frown firmly on her face, she slowly approaches Rae until she’s standing in front of her. “I mean, you’re still working for them, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t be here trying to kill one of their most valuable soldiers. Just because you were honest about the bug, doesn’t mean we trust you.”

Even from where he’s standing, Bucky can see the way Rae bristles slightly as Nat approaches her slowly. She stands up straight from where she’d been leaning against the table.

They stare at each other and Bucky notices how Sam and Steve seem to tense up, ready for a fight.

Suddenly, Rae smirks. “You realise that I could kill you right now, and not a single person in this room could stop me, right? I haven’t killed you, or James, or anyone here, because I don’t want to. Not because I can’t. Frankly, I couldn’t give a flying fuck if you trust me or not, Natalia, but maybe you should use your critical thinking skills and realise that the fact that he’s still alive means something.”

Nat’s eye twitches slightly.

“Sir, the temporary disabling of the surveillance device is about to end. Would you like it to be?” FRIDAY interrupts, frankly saving the day.

Tony rubs his eyes and replies to the disembodied voice. “No thanks, FRIDAY. The sooner we get this thing out the better. Besides, I think we all need some sleep. Some of us are pretty grouchy at the mo’.”

Then, the elevator pings again, and Clint steps out with a sandwich on a plate. He walks over to Bucky then frowns in grumpy understanding when Bucky points to Rae.

Rae looks at the sandwich in front of her. “It has a bite taken out of it.”

Clint seems to at least have the decency to look ashamed as he smiles apologetically and his cheeks take on a slightly red tint. “I got hungry on the way. Sorry.”

Rae looks at Bucky. He shrugs.

Clint looks around at everybody and then the scanner. “Hey, wait, what’d I miss?”


End file.
